


I love you (like the ashes in my cigarette box)

by Autistic_council_spectre, Jackals_shipping (Autistic_council_spectre)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Other, POV Second Person, Pale-Caliginous Vacillation, can humans feel pitch and pale? yes kind of, exploring emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autistic_council_spectre/pseuds/Autistic_council_spectre, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autistic_council_spectre/pseuds/Jackals_shipping
Summary: A non-linear exploration of the vacillating caliginous and pale feelings between two bastards.you'll drag him down with you you sing song promise him. you'll go down hand in terrible unlovable hand.title from The Crane Wives: Tongues and Teeth
Relationships: Orphaner Dualscar/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> content for this chapter: Dog has feelings. brief mention of alcohol

He is drinking with the crew again and you are lazing in a well loved chair. You have never cared for the burn of alcohol and the way it makes the ship sway more than it already does. (it doesn't stop you from kissing him however. he likes his drinks as sharp and bitter as he is. it cloys thick in your mouth for hours after.)

You do however care to watch him. The light catches his piercings in a way that makes him look more resplendent than he really is. It makes your chest ache with warring wants. You want to sink your teeth into him, you want to fight him until you are both bloodied and bruised but relieved of the weight that sits festering in you. (you have only learned to love through mutual destruction)

You also want to wrap your arms around him. You want to hold him to your chest and carefully pull at him, pick at the places he never allowed to heal properly and wash away his hurts until the water runs clean. (you want him to feel like home is in your arms)

He laughs at something one of them says, baring his shark teeth and scrunching up his face. It makes your heart feel like a caged bird hammering for release. 

You're moving before you even register it, arms wrapping around his torso and your head flopped onto his shoulder. Dualscar tenses under your hands before relaxing back against you, one of his fins brushing against your cheek. It is within biting distance and you both know that.

It is about the feeling of only knowing how to love through violence. It is about the urge to squeeze something too cute. It is about feelings that you have never learned to put a name to. It is the feelings you do not permit yourself to feel. 

It is about trust. It is about the way that he doesn't flinch when you bite down on his fin, gentle this time. 

(you wonder idly. do you hate him because he is horrible. or because your broken, sharp edges match too well for comfort.)

...you choose not to think on it. Instead you bite down harder and laugh when he swears at you, threatens to toss you overboard to let the lusi deal with you. 

_you'll drag him down with you_ you sing song promise him. _you'll go down hand in terrible unlovable hand._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find comfort in things that are cut and dry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content: Dog has more feelings

You find comfort in things that are cut and dry. Your moirail is the Grand Highblood. You serve HIC. You work aboard the ISS Calamity. And your kismesis is Orphaner Dualscar. 

It is why you are...mildly thrown by the situation you find yourself in. Dualscar is laying with his head in your lap, his fins relaxed and his throat bared to you. You cannot stop yourself from gently running your fingers along his gills to watch him shudder. It is so..pretty. 

He is pretty. Like this. He doesn't allow you to see this side of him, you only get to see the side that's all sharp barbs and even sharper teeth. (it was hate at first sight he says, in many ways he is correct.)

But you have his head in your lap and you can feel your heart skip a beat. You could hurt him. Your hands are on his throat and you could just.  _ Squeeze _ . You want to,  _ part _ of you wants to. Part of you wants to keep him like this, take him apart gently and stitch the broken pieces back together again. 

Deeps is that what Kurlz feels when he looks at you? You calm his moods and soothe away his hurts with a well practiced ease but  _ he _ is often the one making  _ you _ whole again. (he enjoys it. you asked once and he laughed at you, talked about how it makes him feel good to make you feel good.)

You enjoy things that are cut and dry because they make it easier for you to understand. But. As you wrap your hand around his throat, gentle, steadying, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat, you think that maybe. Maybe. This can be something that you allow to get messy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always kudos an comments are appreciated!


	3. A Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which We Explore The Meeting And Emotions Involving One Jackal Glass And Their To Be Kismesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> contains: pitch flirting and pale emotions but Mostly Pitch, jackal gets injured in a way that is not Horribly Descriptive but does contain blood near the end

Your name is Jackal Glass, you work for Her Imperious Condescension as a great many things: spy and assassin being first and foremost. You are in her words "one of the funniest lil humans [she's] met". It's often accompanied by a smile with too many teeth and a laugh bordering on cruel. (But that is simply how she is you have learned. She was born of the Deeps, of the cruel dark sea, she was not made to be soft and gentle.)

In other words: she likes you. She values what you can do for her empire and because of this she has elevated you to a status that very few humans, trolls or carapacians are capable of reaching. 

It is this status that has you gritting your teeth as you wonder for the hundredth time if it's _worth it_.

Because Her Imperious Condescension has given you a mission, not unusual in and of itself, but that mission is to accompany one Orphaner Dualscar, Captain of the ISS Calamity to crush a small insurrection before it can grow to catastrophic proportions. 

You know from the documents his hatchname is Cronus Ampora, he is the Empresses matesprit, and you now know he is a _rat fucking bastard_. 

Not even a minute into the conversation and he has somehow managed to insult you multiple times. Implying that you must be filling one of Her quadrants to have the position you do, outright stating that if it wasn't for Her orders he would throw you off the ship at the first given opportunity.

You are filled with the urge to pull him down by his stupid bejeweled fins and bite him. By the end of the conversation you are vibrating with a barely contained rage. Later Kurloz will laugh at you, tell you how "wicked mother fuckin funny it is that you've up an gotten your pitch on for the fish bastard" and it will leave you flushed from ear to collarbone. The hatred you feel is the most purely platonic, nothing more or less. 

(this is of course ignoring your daydreams about throwing him to the floor and kissing him senseless with a knife to his stomach, maybe that will shut him up for more than thirty seconds.) 

\----

Your first week passes calmly enough. You stay out of the Orphaners way as well as you can, treat your job with the Utmost Respect you show everything you do, and begin to bond with some of the crew. They don't trust you, not yet, because you're human, because you're a part of the Church and that makes people uncomfortable. (you choose not to get into the hours long ramble of the church is more your _moirails_ than **_yours_**. you don't find safety in it's cold embrace but you do find it in _his._ )

And you learn things about the Orphaner. Little things here and there, because no matter where you go people will always love to _gossip_. 

He's always tired, but he'll never admit to it. Not even when he's swaying on his feet and clutching at the rails til his knuckles then ashen. Doesn't have a moirail to speak of apparently. Only quadrant that's filled is his flushed and even that is tenuous at best and often tinged in shades of pitch. 

He's as old as Kurlz apparently. Been on the same ship for as long as anyone can remember and been through more crew members than you can count. (It must be lonely you think. There's not many other violets on board and purples often cluster to the Church. hell even ceruleans don't live as long as the others and...maybe that's why he's so tired all the time.)

He's got more scars and tattoos and piercings than he does clear flesh. That one you learn by observation. Sometimes he'll lean over the side of the ship, get a far away look on his face, and strip his outerwear before jumping overboard. Your heart stopped the first time before you reminded yourself he was born of the sea. 

(if you kiss him will you taste it on him? will he taste like brine and blood?)

\----

Your name is Jackal Glass and you have decided you will not be telling the Orphaner that. 

He calls you _dog_ when he deigns to address you again, venom dripping so sharp from that single word you're surprised you haven't keeled over dead from it. The crew gives you side long glances, expecting it to bother you and send you into a shouting rage but. But you can't help it. 

_You laugh at him._

The look of shock on his face is enough to make you break down into further giggles, teeth bared up at him in a mockery of a grin as his fins press further against his face. _That will do then Captain. Since you're apparently lacking the braincells to recall my name proper._

You have never run so fast in your life, furious seadweller on your heels and still cackling up a storm.

(he will not catch you, you will jump onto the mast of the ship, swing yourself up like the ropes are the silks your Siblings use for practice. you will mock him, affectionately sharp, and inform him if he cannot catch a simple human perhaps he is getting far too _old_ to be the captain.)

(you will both refuse to think on the fact he could have caught up to you in two strides and thrown you overboard if he wished.)

\----

Orphaner Dualscar is an old troll, older than some stars and old enough that his skin has gone so dark oftentimes you lose him up against the night sky. But when he fights he moves like a troll a tenth his age. 

You've always enjoyed watching others. But your Siblings…. _well_. There is an unfortunate truth to the Church and it's brutality you have to admit. Dualscar? He moves like a dancer. 

He fights with fancy flourishes that other trolls couldn't get away with. He fights like he's putting on a show. _Look at me, look at me. Am I not powerful? Am I not worthy of adoration? I could destroy you with a flick of my wrist and I wouldn't even care._

It is...enthralling. He sends his opponents sword flying before knocking them sharply down, his sword to their throat and a half feral grin on his face. (you do not think about how you want to be under him like that. you do _not._ )

You also, do not see the look on his face as he watches you flee with your tail between your legs. It is the look of a man who is beginning to realize certain emotions within himself. (he does not under any circumstances think about wanting you under him instead of them. and if he does it's because you're _human_ and it is only _natural_ as a violetblood that he is better than you and. and. **_fuck_** )

\---

there is blood on your face and on your hands and half of it is yours and. that is. not ideal. things had been going swimmingly until now, heh, _swimmingly_. oh….. right. you're busy bleeding out aren't you?

the insurrection was easily crushed. it was naught more than a small group of lowbloods, half of them honestly couldn't have been more than ten sweeps old. later you will think on it with a grimace, pressing your palms into your eyes and think once again: is it worth it. should you flee into the wilderness.

but for now you are holding your stomach with one hand, holding yourself up against a wall with the other and gritting your teeth. you will not die today. not here, not now. 

you know you only have a few more moments before you succumb to the blood loss and lose consciousness (you have seen your moirail perform inquisition more times than you can count, and you have seen even the strongest of your siblings drop in battle) so you push yourself forwards, saying a prayer to the Messiah's for good measure. _ive payed my way in flesh and blood brothers mine. now let me get the_ fuck _out of here back to my diamond._

Dualscar is the one who finds you. he rounds the corner and almost bowls you over in his haste. _vwhere the fuck have you- DOG._

 _oh. what's up asshole_. you give him the quickest of finger guns before slumping against him. he's always so cold but….this time you hardly feel it against you. that's..not good is it? 

but he's holding you with more care than he ever has, cradled against his chest like a newly hatched wriggler while everything goes fuzzy around the edges. it's...it's nice. in it's own way. 

the last thing you think about is the impulse to bite his dumb, stupid dumb bejeweled fins. 

\---

When you wake again you feel as if you've just been run over by a truck. Which...all things considered you suppose that's better than not waking up at all. 

You are in a hospital room apparently, there are bandages covering your hands, a cast on your left wrist and even more bandages around your waist. There is also a very large, very old troll currently draped over your legs. He looks like _shit_. 

His hair is splayed out around him, face scrunched up like he's in the middle of a particularly vicious daymare and the bags under his eyes are far deeper than normal. He has several cuts on his face and neck that you're certain will only add to the mass of scars.

Right now too he's close enough you could just...his face relaxes as you lay your palm on his cheek. Fuck but seadwellers are _cold_. He's worse than the bloody ocean he spends most of his time in. It doesn't stop you however, from running your hand across his face, tracing the parallel scars that mar his cheeks and eye. (he won't tell you how he got that one. he freezes, looks around the room at everywhere but the person asking before telling em _it's none of ya fuckin business don't ask me again vwriggler_.)

(in this moment you don't know that he will tell you one day. face pressed against your collarbone as he whispers it like a confessional. you don't know that you will mark down a name in your mind with a newfound rage. for now you just know that you hate this man and you also don't want to stop touching his face.)

When he wakes it's slow, shoves his face further into your palm like an overgrown cat before yawning wide. It shows off the double row of fangs and you just. _Hm_. Well _that_ is your finger on the Orphaner's golden canine and he's fixin you with just such the most bewildered look. Eventually of course you retract your hand and he sits up all proper like the Fine Captain he pretends to be. "So. Ya ain't dead."

"..not for lack of trying." It takes a moment for your mouth to remember how words work. "How long I been out?"

"Boat a vweek now. Medicullers. They vwerent sure... if ya vwould vwake up." His accent comes out stronger when he's stressed you've noticed. It makes you feel such emotions inside.

Your hands find his to give them a gentle pat, his rings are almost as cool against your skin as he is. (what do you feel like to him? does it hurt? you are hotter than even a rustblood you know. does it feel like he's holding a dying star in his hands when he touches you?) "Eh don't worry bout it Captain, we both know I'm too stupid to die."

His smile looks almost fond as he takes your hands proper, dwarfing them in his larger more scared up ones. "Aye that vwe both knoww ya are huh. At any rate, I'll be stayin here til ya fully get back on ya feet. Don't vwant you tryin tae sneak awway from your job." It is the weakest excuse you have ever heard but you nod nonetheless, sink back into your bed and allow him to tell you how things went with Her Imperiousness.

The sound of his voice lulls you to sleep, or maybe it's the heavy painkillers still in your system. Whatever the cause you are soon unconscious again and Captain Cronus Ampora hesitates for a long moment before pulling the blankets up around you and pressing a cool kiss to your forehead. 

He doesn't know what he's doing. He knows in his bones he will outlive you, he will outlive your whole species. But you make him feel things. Pitch and pale in equal measure. Fuck.

(it will still be a few sweeps before you get together proper. the crew will place bets on how long it'll take before you get your heads out of your asses and realize you're both swinging the most hate filled rivalry for each other so you just need to fucking kiss already. you will dance around the subject, throw barbs at each other, throw each other to the deck of the ship and swear curses that no one should repeat. you will leave each other bruised and battered but better. pushed to be better.)

(but for now? For now he crawls into the bed next to you, curls up around you like he's not gonna let anyone lay a finger on what's rightfully his.)

(and you will curl up into him, press your face into the hollow of his neck and feel the most relaxed you've felt in a good long while.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was initially written for my self ship blog and I thought yknow. this fits the general Vibe huh and gives some context for how these two assholes meet

**Author's Note:**

> each chapter is going to be varying lengths, just based on Whatever The Vibe Is
> 
> comments and likes are much appreciated !


End file.
